Legacy Scars
by Jish
Summary: The aftermath of the death of a classmate is different for each person. Most agree it's a tragedy, but some would probably be thankful. Others might not care at all. The feeling of each person is part of the deceased's legacy. And this legacy has different effects on each individual. WARNING: Character death and dark themes. Complete.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do not in ANY WAY own South Park.**

**Warning: This story contains character death and dark thoughts.**

**A/N: Here's an idea I've been toying around with for a while, and I think I developed it enough into something that can actually be read. I don't know where this will end up, I don't know if there will be any plot. This is literally me making it up as I go along. Otherwise, I hope you all enjoy.**

**Also, please review!**

**Here it is:**

**Legacy Scars (Chapter 1)-Prologue**

I do miss my Mom, but nothing will bring her back. Even before she died, it was a death sentence. She had a malignant brain tumor…but the only symptom she shown was her excessive libido.

Why the _fuck_ was everyone in this town so retarded and not realize she could have been sick? I was only eight when I was told she was a "whore;" I didn't know a goddam thing about anything! Nobody in this freaking place cares about anyone. Everyone in this hell-hole is amazingly self-centered, even more-so than I am. But I'm not eight anymore. I'm sixteen now, and I know what I want to do.

I'm glad this day is here because now _I_ can die. I wasn't going to do it while she was still alive; she didn't deserve that pain added to the already excruciating cancer treatment. But now that she's gone, I can finally do it…

…I'm going to kill myself.

I hate my life, and I always have. I think that's why I am anti-gay, anti-Semitic, anti-women, anti-_everything_. I hate myself and life so much that I want everyone to feel hate and hate everything too. I guess misery does love company.

I have done so many bad things to so many people. Kenny, Token, Wendy, my half-brother Scott…then there're Butters and Kyle. I did so many awful, unspeakable thing to those two. But I couldn't stop…and I still can't. That's why I have to kill myself; to end my own suffering and to stop spreading this suffering.

I've planned my suicide. I'm going to drive my mother's car, with all the windows down, into Stark's Pond in the dead of the night. Nobody will be there, nobody will be witness. I will drown, go missing, and never be found. Thus ends the life of Eric Cartman…

Because this dude deserves to die anyway.

I want to die suffering. That's why I didn't eat all day, and the last thing I ate was only a cup of instant noodles last night. No final meal, no enjoyment. I will die feeling what I have given others all my life.

I step into my dear, sweet Mother's car. I start the engine, roll down all four windows, and I begin speeding to Stark's Pond. I don't care to follow the rules of the road, I'm going to die and any more suffering I cause would be inconsequential.

I race into the pond's entrance, and I drive right into the Pond. I quickly begin to sink as the car fills with water, when I hear two voices. I look to my right, and I see one Stan Marsh and one Kyle Broflovski. Of course they would be here, probably being fags.

Doesn't matter, I will die. I cannot be saved; the car is almost sinking and the nearest hospital is pretty far away. I don't listen to whatever their voices saying, and I don't care that they're seeing this.

When the car is fully under the water, I know these are the final moments of my life. I feel amazing, and I open my mouth and breathe in…

**A/N: First, other chapters will (hopefully) be much longer than this. I needed to be able to set what I actually want to write up. I don't know where this concept came from, whenever I thought it up a good few months ago. Just this morning I figured out how to make it into a story, and I had to write this. This isn't very good, especially because of the lack of detail and very rushed feel, but that main point of the story will be the aftermath. I hope you guys liked it. Also, don't forget to review!**


	2. The Rock

**Disclaimer: I do not in ANY WAY own South Park.**

**Warning: This story contains character death and dark thoughts.**

**A/N: Okay. I still have no idea what I am doing for this story. But, here's Chapter 2. I hope you all like it!**

**Also, please review!**

**Here it is:**

**Legacy Scars (Chapter 2)-The Rock**

I unlock my locker and sift through the mess and look for my Spanish Introduction textbook. I am so tired from last night.

Last night…was one of the worst nights of my life. The only other times nights were worse was the series of days when I thought Kyle was going to die because he needed a kidney, the night when my parents almost started getting physical in a fight, and the night before a final last year in a class I was barely passing and the final would have either brought me up to a B or would have failed me. Last night…

Cartman killed himself last night.

And, I don't know what to think. But that's not why last night was bad. Yeah, he killing himself kind of sucked, but last night was bad because I realized how close Kyle and I were to getting killed. He could have ran us over when he drove into the damn pond!

I actually think I may be in shock. I'm not really feeling anything towards his death. The police and divers asked us so many questions, and it felt like an interrogation. They even accused us of having something to do with it!

That was when Kyle had enough of that. So, he made up the best lie. He said that we were secret boyfriends and were meeting up away from our parents and then Cartman showed up. That was such an amazing lie because it is actually a bit believable; after all, this town is kind of anti-gay, so it would make sense we would meet up alone if we were together. All we were doing was just hanging out. Then the fatass had to come and wreck shit up like he always does.

All I think about is that he ruined our night. It's not clicking that he's _dead_, that he'll never talk to us or torment us or annoy us or anything. All I feel is him being absent from school today is that it'll be a day of peace and quiet.

When we met at the nearest bus stop, which still runs for high school, nothing was said. Kyle and I were tired from the interviews, Butters was looking at the ground like he usually does, and Kenny was…oddly quiet.

They can't ask us about the scene because they don't know that we were there. The only ones who know are the cops and divers, Kyle and myself, and our parents when they picked us up after (who luckily didn't ask questions). Nobody else knows, and I hope it stays that way.

"Why do you think he did it?" Someone behind me asks, and I am shocked to see Kenny without his hood on. His eyes are red, and he must have been crying.

"I don't know, dude. He must have been depressed; I guess he was bored with life." I say to him, not feeling any emotion towards the situation.

"What the fuck does 'bored with life' mean, dude? Don't you care that he's gone? Don't you give a shit that our fucking friend is dead? That he fucking killed himself?" Kenny screams at me, and I just…don't get it.

"It means he made a choice and didn't want to be alive anymore." I don't bother to try to answer his other questions. I don't want anyone to see me as a psychopath who doesn't have emotions and doesn't care about his friends.

"Really? He made a choice? So what if Kyle made that choice? Would you react in the same way?" He asks, and I push Kenny against the locker.

"Don't you _dare_ speak about Kyle like that. Just because your quote-unquote 'best friend' killed himself and didn't come to you doesn't mean Kyle, my _real_ best friend would. We tell each other everything." I say and He pushes me off of him.

Kyle and I are best friends. We once made a pact that even when we were in a fight and hated each other, we would still call and answer if we needed something, no matter what. And he did. He answered the phone when I called when we were in an especially rough fight. That told the both of us that our friendship is special.

"Fuck you, Stan!" He shouts and walks away after punching, and leaving a dent in, the locker I just had him against. I don't bother to respond to him.

I have to get to Spanish class.

**A/N: Okay. So, this chapter wasn't nearly as long as I had hoped. I was originally going to give one chapter and one only for each character (though they can appear in others like Kenny did here). But, I have an idea of what I can do. I can revisit characters as the story progresses, and I can give emphasis to individual reactions, etc. So, I like to think of this story as an experiment in a different type of story, one that is non-linear. I hope you all enjoyed this second chapter. Also, don't forget to review!**


	3. The Free

**Disclaimer: I do not in ANY WAY own South Park.**

**Warning: This story contains character death and dark thoughts.**

**A/N: This reaction was actually what sparked this story in my mind. So, this chapter was especially fun to write, and I hope it will be fun to read as well!**

**Also, please review!**

**Legacy Scars (Chapter 3)-The Free**

When he drove into the pond, and practically ran Stan and me over like the fucker he is, I will admit that I was afraid. I don't really know what I was afraid of, but I know that I felt scared. So, I was the one who called 911 while Stan was just…kind of frozen and trying to figure out what the hell happened. By that point though, the car was already completely underwater and it can be reasonably assumed that he had drowned himself right then and there anyway.

So, the fat fuck finally killed himself. And I couldn't be happier! After everything that bastard has done to me…he has made my life a living hell. I was considering suicide a few years ago because of that asshole, but Stan convinced me not to. Stan was always there for me, always alleviating some of the pain from Cartman's blows, and always saving me from myself.

I didn't kill myself because I knew people would miss me. I know I have friends. I have Stan, Kenny, Butters, Wendy, and I have many friendly acquaintances in Tweek, Clyde, Token, and the likes of all them. And I still have my parents and my little brother Ike.

That no good, piece of shit, pile of filth never had anyone who loved him, sans his mom. I feel bad that his mother died, because she was a really sweet woman and she did not deserve her illness. She also didn't deserve to have the world's worst son. I like to think that her illness gave her a chance to be free from the fatass, that it gave her a chance to finally rest.

But there was nobody who ever felt of him as a friend. Well, Butters did, at one point, but Cartman crossed too many lines for even Butters to handle. And I took it upon myself to help Butters heal and get over that fucker because I know firsthand what he did. I was not going to let him give Butters to scars that I will be forced to live with every second of the rest of my life.

And I know there are people out there who love me, and knowing that if I did that would devastate them was alone enough to convince me never to do it, no matter how much I am hurting.

But right now, I am not hurting. I am in such bliss I have never felt before. I feel like I can do any fucking thing that I want. I feel like I can take my parents' car for a joyride, I feel like I can get an A on all my tests for the rest of the year without studying, and I feel like I can walk into an adult store and bar without an ID!

I needed humor in my life. Since I got out of my suicidal funk, humor is what always made me feel somewhat happy again. I like to laugh, and I like to make others laugh. It's just that shared feeling of laughing and gayety that really does put a smile on my face.

"Kyle, your best friend is an asshole." Kenny says to me as he sits down in the seat to my right and takes the Chemistry book from my desk.

"Hey, don't say that about Stan. And why is he an asshole? And that's my book, you freeloader." I say the last part in a joyful tone, but Kenny doesn't take not of it.

"But it's true Kyle! He's acting like he doesn't even care that our friend is fucking _dead_ or that he did it _to himself_." Kenny says, and I have to hold back some laughter.

After all, I don't give a crap; at least, not in the way Kenny wants me to. He's sad about it, and this feels…orgasmic.

"He's probably in shock, dude. People react differently to death. Just give him some time." I respond, not letting on what I actually feel. I don't want people to think that I'm some sort of psychopath or something. And if I know Stan, and I do, he probably is in shock or in denial and just doesn't want to deal with this. All we have talked about this is that we won't tell other people what we saw him do it.

"Well why do you think he did it?" I hear some sort of…sadness and malice in his voice. I know he was Kenny's best friend, but that 'best' isn't a good description. He was an asshole to Kenny as well. I don't why Kenny is so affected like this. But, unlike Cartman, he is my friend. I am going to try to comfort him without telling him what I feel.

"He wanted an escape." I whisper, not realizing what I said until I said it. That's what I wanted when I wanted to kill myself way back when.

"What do you mean?" He responds as the rest of the students start filing into the room.

"Whatever he was feeling, he wanted an escape. I don't think he wanted to die; he just didn't want to feel what he was feeling anymore. He thought that death would be the only way." I'm speaking from experience now. I don't know if Cartman felt any of that, but I did. Kenny doesn't say anything…

…He just gets up, slams the book back on my desk, and walks angrily out the door. I don't bother to go after him, because even though I'm free like his mother and I feel like I can do anything, I can't.

I need to pay attention to my Chemistry.

**A/N: Just so you guys know, I do plan on doing eventual character revisits. So, don't think the thousand or so words per character is everything we will get to see of that character. I hope that makes you guys want to keep on reading. Was this chapter good? Also, don't forget to review!**


	4. The Devoted

**Disclaimer: I do not in ANY WAY own South Park.**

**Warning: This story contains character death and dark thoughts.**

**Note: As of this chapter, I changed the list of characters for the story. I replaced "Eric Cartman" with "Kenny M." because I made a mistake originally. I apologize for this.**

**A/N: Well, here's Chapter Four already. I like the way I am formatting this story, and I think I figured out the plot-y elements I want. I hope you all enjoy!**

**Also, please review!**

**Legacy Scars (Chapter 4)-The Devoted**

Oh, boy. I really hate having to use the bathroom at school. I always feel like someone will know it's me in there. It's too nerve-wracking trying to actually relieve oneself in a school bathroom.

Luckily, nobody entered the entire time! I actually feel better; my stomach hurt an awful lot earlier. Usually my stomach only hurts when I get _really_ nervous for a test or something. But I think it's because of what I heard early this morning. This morning, I heard that Eric Cartman had killed himself.

I was confused when I heard that. I don't know why, but I was thought that Eric was happy. I didn't think he would ever go and off himself.

I used to think of him as my best friend. But, he went too far one time. I never told anyone this, but he tried to have me have sex with these gross boys for money.

I was scared when I found out that I liked other boys; I always thought I would just find the right girl. But, when I realized it, I told my best friend Eric. He didn't seem to mind, he seemed happy actually. But, the next day, he told me to come over to his house and he had these three boys from another high school there, already almost naked. I was scared!

He told me that they would pay a lot of money of I helped them with their 'problem.' He had used that line many times before, whenever he needed my help. It was that moment that I realized that he took advantage of my generosity. I immediately ran out the door and not to my house next door, but to Kyle's house two places down.

I would have gone home, but I didn't want to be alone. My parents would have grounded me if I told them anything or if they even saw me crying. Kyle didn't ask me anything; I just told him that Eric did something bad and I needed a friend. That day was the last day I ever spoke to Eric.

But looking back on it, it disgusts me to think how devoted I was to him. I was his slave, and every time I remember the things he made me do, or the things he did to me and others, I just want to puke or it makes me have to go the bathroom, like I am right now.

"Ahh!" I hear someone come in the bathroom, and this is exactly what I was afraid of. Luckily, I'm almost done and I can just wait for whoever came in to leave. Just to be sure I don't get noticed, I lift me legs up off the ground so they can't be seen under the door.

"This sucks." I know that voice! It's Kenny, but he sounds like he's been crying.

"K-Kenny?" I ask, knowing what position I am in. But, I trust him enough to not make fun of me. The day after I went to Kyle, I became part of something between him and Stan and Kenny.

"Butters? Is that you?" He asks, stepping in front of my stall. I sigh and clear my throat.

"Yeah I'll be out in a second." I say and quickly get up and finish what I need to before flushing, pulling my pants up, and getting out of the stall and going to the sink to wash my hands. I make sure to walk slowly as to not re-upset my stomach, though.

"Butters, I need a friend right now." Kenny says as I wash my hands, making sure to use extra soap.

"Okay. What's up, Kenny?" I ask him, getting the paper towels to dry my now-clean hands.

"Nobody seems to care! Not Stan, not Kyle! Nobody cares that my best friend is dead!" Kenny cries out and shoves his head into my chest.

Oh, jeez.

"I care, Kenny. Honest." I can't tell him the truth. I don't care, I really don't. He tried to make me do something truly awful. But I do feel bad for Kenny. I don't care for Cartman, but Kenny is my friend. "There, there little buddy." I say to Kenny as he cries into my chest and I rub his back.

"I'm sorry, Butters. I don't mean to bother you." He says, calming down a bit.

"You're not bothering me, Kenny. I don't need to go to this class anyway, we're just watching a movie. I don't mind helping a friend in need." I say, and he hugs me. I yelp in surprise, but quickly return it.

"Thank, Butters. I have to go. I have something to do." He says before leaving the bathroom as suddenly as he came in. I didn't even get to say goodbye.

I wonder why Kenny cares about Cartman so much. He was mean to him too. He was always mean to everyone, yet he had that smile on his face. How could anyone take pleasure from hurting people like that? I don't get it, I really don't.

But, what's important is that I help my friends. I will do whatever I need to do to make sure Stan, Kyle, and Kenny are all alright. I'm now devoted to the well-bring of both myself and my friends. I'm not the slave of one mean boy; I'm the friend of my friends.

And that's enough to put a smile back on my face.

**A/N: Wow, this story is so easy to write. Usually, stories take me a week or two to update, yet this story is just so easy and fun to write that I don't want to stop. I hope you all liked this chapter. And once again, I apologize for the mistake in the characters list which I have since fixed. Also, don't forget to review!**


	5. The Pressured

**Disclaimer: I do not in ANY WAY own South Park.**

**Warning: This story contains character death and dark thoughts.**

**A/N: I had some difficulty with this particular character reaction and how I want the plot to start going. Still, I hope you all enjoy it!**

**Also, please review!**

**Legacy Scars (Chapter 5)-The Pressured**

So much to do, so much to do! I hate being sophomore president sometimes; there's just too much work that almost nobody cares about.

I barely care about it…I just want this leadership on my college applications. I didn't expect so much _work_, though!

"Wendy! Wendy!" Someone shouts, running into my pseudo-office. It just so happens that this time, of all times someone could be barging in on me, is my office hours that literally _nobody_ uses.

"Yes?" I turn around and I see that it is Kenny McCormick. I have a good feeling what this would be about. It's about the fat turd Cartman and that he finally did us all a favor and killed himself.

I thought I had a crush on him once. But I was _so_ wrong. It was when I was discovering what I really was attracted to…

…Bigger guys.

I am a bit ashamed to think it, but I am a chubby chaser. I like larger guys. But not Cartman, not him.

I hate him so goddam much because he was such an asshole to everyone, especially me, my best friend Bebe, my ex-boyfriend Stan, his best friend Kyle, and all of our friends Butters and Kenny. Then there's everyone else in the school and the town and the county and the state and the country and the _world_ that he abused or fucked up in ways way beyond any sane or rational person could.

I don't why Kenny would consider Cartman a friend, let alone a _best_ friend. I hate to speak bad about my friends, but Kenny is an idiot to think of Cartman like that.

"Oh, hey Kenny. What can I do for you?" I ask him, smiling gently. Though I think he's an idiot for it, he is mourning what he considered a friend. I have to support him, no matter my personal feelings for the fat fuck.

"Wendy, I need you to do something, as your sophomore president." _Shit_ is my first reaction because that already means extra work for me and I cannot be bothered with that shit.

"Like what?" I ask; I can always reject his proposal, but I need to listen to him to give the impression of listening and consideration.

"I know it's sudden, but I want there to be a memorial. For Eric. We need to have some sort of memorial service, like an assembly to remember or something like that." He says, looking very hopeful. I inwardly sigh, not sure what to do.

"Kenny, we simply don't have enough in the budget. And this would take time to prepare. And we would have to schedule it during school hours, and-" I am cut off

"Stop making excuses, Wendy. Be honest with me. You don't want this, do you?" He spouts angrily, and I furrow my brows.

"No." I say sternly, and he subtly bobs his head.

"Why not?" He demands, and I am going to give him the truth.

"Because I didn't like the fucker. I never did. _Nobody_ did. We all _hated_ him, and we're _glad_ he's dead. And, frankly, I'm too lazy to put on something like that anyway." I say and I see Kenny kind of just…break.

He doesn't fall onto his knees and cry or anything, but he just stares off into space. I think he finally realizes just what he all feel about that…

…There isn't even a word to describe how awful Cartman was! He was just the epitome of everything we as people hate and wish were gone! And our wish came true! He is fucking _gone_!

But, Kenny doesn't say anything anymore. He just slowly turns around and walks out of the room as if the life was drained out of him. No…

"Kenny!" I shout to him; he better not do it.

"What?" He quietly responds, and I know that he isn't. That's not the voice of a boy who's given up and wants to die as well; that's the voice of a boy who lost something near and dear to him who everyone is saying was worthless.

I feel like a bitch, now. It's not quite the same, but it's like someone who just lost their beloved pet and everyone of this someone's 'friends' telling him his pet deserves it or that nobody liked it. Oh, God, Kenny…

What is all this pressure I feel in my chest? I still can't do a memorial; the reasons I told Kenny were somewhat based in reality. And I still don't feel bad that Cartman is pushing up worms in Hell, but I _do_ feel bad that my friend is hurting and I don't know how to help him.

I know what this pressure is.

"I'm so sorry, Kenny." I say, defeated. There's nothing else I could say to comfort him. I already screwed it up bad enough for him to get like this; only one of his best friends could help fix him now.

"I know." He says, and I feel this bug in my throat. I cough slightly before saying one more thing.

"Take care of yourself, Kenny." I say before he walks a few steps.

"I'll try." He says before walking off and leaving me alone in my office, my paperwork completely forgotten now and with me now with a whole lot of pressure.

I know what this pressure is…

…It's guilt.

**A/N: Wow, this was actually easier than I thought it was going to be. I don't think it was the best, but I think it was necessary to make this story start going where I want it to go. Again, I still have no idea where exactly it is I want it to go in the end (or where/when the end is, for that matter), but I know where I want it to go next. Did you guys like this chapter? Also, don't forget to review!**


	6. The Lover

**Disclaimer: I do not in ANY WAY own South Park.**

**Warning: This story contains character death and dark thoughts.**

**A/N: This is the chapter that everyone has been waiting for so far. I hope I don't disappoint any of you. Enjoy!**

**Also, please review!**

**Legacy Scars (Chapter 6)-The Lover**

"I'll try."

She was my last hope. Now, that's gone too and it's never coming back. Just like _him_. Just like how _he_ is gone and is never coming back.

I don't think I've ever felt this alone or hopeless or fucking _pathetic_ in my life as I do right now. Nobody fucking gets it. Nobody cares. Nobody _cares_.

Would it be like that if I did it? Would my 'friends' actually give a shit if I got a gun and blew my fucking brains right there in front of the school so my blood would be stained on the concrete and my guts forever part of the school? Judging by the way all have been acting, my mind is giving a big fat 'no.' My mind is telling me that my so-called friends would not spare one-moment's thought if I slit my throat or asphyxiated myself or overdosed on the drugs I can easily get my hands on…

…Ah, who the fuck am I trying to kid?

Of course they would care. They care about me; they love me like a brother. But why me; why not Eric?

I miss him so much. I considered him my best friend. I still consider him my best friend, even though I'll never see him again and though I never got to say goodbye. Maybe if he would have talked to me for once, I could have helped him. Maybe I could have saved him. Maybe I could have shown how much someone cares about him and how broken that someone would be without him no longer in that someone's life…with that someone being _me_.

I should have told him. If I did and it went bad, nothing would have changed. I would still have felt the same, maybe a bit worse but nothing too major. If it went well, things could have been so much better for the two of us. I should have told that fat, selfish bastard that I am so hopelessly in love with him that every time I think about him I feel like crying and my stomach wants to puke out all of its contents, what little there may be.

I'm not gay nor am I bisexual, but I know that I do love Eric Cartman. I don't even know what it is that attracts me to him. It's definitely _not_ due to his racist, sexist, homophobic, anti-Semitic, misogynistic attitude he tries to shove down everyone's throat on the daily. It's not due to the awful way he treated his poor mother, rest her soul. And it's not the way he treated our mutual friends.

It could be because we have similar financial situations, even though he tries to imply that he's well off. Of all our friends, I know he cared about me. He even occasionally brought me food when I was practically starving, and made sure I ate it. He never mentioned it when he did, but he always had that face like he was doing something important to him.

I don't know what it is that just makes me fall all head-over-heels or go all gooey for him, but I do. I don't know what it is that makes me want to kiss all his troubles away, but I do. I don't know what it is that makes me feel _obsessed_ about him, but I do.

I do, I do, I do! I can imagine him saying those words to me if we were to get married, I can almost feel those lips on mine after we give each other those fake rings we bought for cheap in a pawn shop that still tell each of us how much we love each other. I can see-

I need to stop this. My fantasies are getting out of hand again and I need to focus. I need to focus on the now and not the already-then-impossible could-have-been. When will I get it through my thick skull that he doesn't love me, never have loved me, and never would have loved me? When will I stop _thinking_ about him? However, until that happens, I can revel in his good looks in the pictures I have.

Not only is he handsome, but he's also cute, too. I think that's another reason why I love him. He still has a baby face, which is pretty irresistible. He is just so-

No, not is. _Was_…

Why does everyone, at least according to Wendy, hate him? Yeah, there _were_ many, many things about him to despise. I get that, and I love the asshole. And I don't even know why I love him; all I know is that I do love him and that there must have been something about him that attracts me and makes me crazy for him.

I miss him. I just want to go over to his house and hug him, even if he would try to punch me in the face or try to hurt me other ways. I just need to _feel_ him. I never thought I would be this pathetic, but there's only one way to be able to simulate that…

…The doll.

A few weeks ago, I just needed him that I started to make a mini-plush Eric doll. It kind of sucks, but it makes me feel like I'm really with him. Especially now that he's gone, it's all that I have left. And I am going to make _full_ use of it, especially in bed tonight…

…Fuck. I need help.

**A/N: This probably sucked a lot. I just don't think it turned out nearly as good as it could have, but it still established what I wanted to establish. I do hope this didn't disappoint **_**too**_** much. And, I think it's time to start doing some revisits soon, if not the next chapter. Well, I hope you guys liked it. Also, don't forget to review!**


	7. The Indifferent

**Disclaimer: I do not in ANY WAY own South Park.**

**Warning: This story contains character death and dark thoughts.**

**A/N: Well, here's another chapter of this story. I do have a little bit of the next chapter planned out, but this is still a make-it-up-as-I-go-along type of a story with still no real goal in mind. So, with that being said, I hope you all enjoy this chapter!**

**Also, please review!**

**Legacy Scars (Chapter 7)-The Indifferent**

It's been a week since that one night where Kyle and I were almost murdered in a vehicular fashion by that selfish, narcissistic, fatass himself Eric Theodore Cartman…

…And I still don't gave a crap at all.

Maybe I would care if someone I actually liked or cared about had died; no, I definitely _would_ care if someone I liked had died. Like if Kenny, or Butters, or Wendy…or Kyle. I don't know what I would do if any of them even got _hurt_, let alone killed. But Cartman…

…is not one of those people. I just don't care; I've been going on this past week like nothing has happened, except being worried about Kyle, that is.

I have no _real_ reason to worry about him. I mean, he seems to be doing alright. He hasn't broke down in any way (not that I expect him to), and he hasn't acted any differently. I just worry about him possibly getting flashbacks about that car coming for us. But, I shouldn't. But I _do_! He's my best friend, my person! How could I _not_ worry about him?

My parents are worried about him and me both. They think we should be acting differently. They think that this is an unhealthy reaction when a friend dies. They key word there is "friend;" because after all, Cartman was never my friend nor was he ever Kyle's friend.

There does come one _amazing_ thing about this whole event, though. A story!

I'm in eleventh grade, and I need to start writing my personal statements for college applications next year. And what better one is the story of dealing with seeing my "friend" commit suicide right in front of the eyes of myself and my best friend in the whole entire world?

Pretty fucking genius if I do say so myself. Who knew him killing himself would be the best thing for my college applications? Sure, it helps that I have a pretty good GPA and SAT score, with an higher-than-average ACT score, some a 5 on the AP Art History exam, and sports, but that's just academics. This story, would be personal…

…Well, not really. I'll fudge it to the _max_, but it's believable and I can make everything sound like it scarred me permanently and how it makes me look at all my friends and not take anyone for granted or some bullshit like that. This is my ace in the whole for getting into university! And I am definitely going to take full advantage of this golden opportunity.

My parents also finally asked me why Kyle and I were even out there in the first place. They asked me if we were in trouble or doing something bad. I said no to everything; after all, we aren't doing drugs or dealing them or selling weapons or any shit like that. I told them that we were just talking. I did not mention the lie that Kyle had told the cops about our fake relationship; I did not want to freak my parents out or anything like that. Luckily they had accepted that answer, and I can finally let my guard down at home. Shelly's been out of the house for months now, so she has no idea and I have intention on ever telling her anything. This situation is finally over at home.

Though it has made me also worry, outside of home, about another friend besides Kyle. And that friend would be Kenny.

After his little rage at me last week, I haven't seen him. And I had traced his steps after he had seen me. He went to Kyle, then Butters, and finally Wendy. Wendy told me that the last thing he said to her, after she told him to take care of himself, was that he'll try. But after that, he has just ditched this whole previous week.

I've been keeping tabs on him, though. Though I haven't seen him, I know that Butters has been texting him with the prepaid phone we all got Kenny as a gift last year. Butters has been telling us that he's not exactly alright, but he's safe. I guess that's the most important thing.

I don't understand why Kenny is so affected by this. Cartman was an asshole, plain and simple. Maybe it's Stockholm's' Syndrome, as I am learning in my AP Psychology class. Maybe Kenny was just so attached to the abuse that he can no longer function without it and that the very thought of it being gone, let alone the actual reality of it being gone, is just too much for his mind to deal with…

…And that just makes me feel like shit.

I mean, what kind of friend am I? I should try to talk to him! But instead, I'm just being a little pussy and just making sure, via Butters and their texts, that he's not trying to hurt himself.

And Butters…

That kid has been through too much in his young life. I don't know how many times I just see him sometimes and wonder what is going through his head, and wondering how much of it was at the hands of that asshole. I know something really bad happened to him, I don't know what. Kyle told me that Butters came to him once when Cartman did something unforgivable. And to top that off, the poor kid has to deal with being gay as well.

I have been questioning my beliefs these past few months, but even more now. I went to Church when I was a little kid (my parents' influence), and I had always thought that good people would be rewarded. But Butters, the epitome of decent human beings, and Kenny, the most honest person yet one highly respectable stature as well, have been given shit for lives. They do not deserve all they have been put through so far, and they certainly do not deserve the pain we all will feel in our lives. What kind of god would put such amazing people through such torture? I don't know, but if there is a god that's doing this, then that is no god of mine. My God is a god of justice.

Though I am indifferent to the death of that fatass, I am not indifferent to my friends. Kyle, Kenny, Butters, and Wendy all hold special places in my heart. And I will do anything to make sure that all these people that I love, including myself because I do love myself, are happy, healthy, and definitely not alone.

**A/N: Yeah, Stan is just kind of the same. I thought I would decide to give some more relevant detail about what he can take out of this rather than an actual reaction because he doesn't really have a reaction. Although, this chapter did allow me to give a solid idea to work on for future stuff if I can work it in. I hope you guys liked this chapter! Also, don't forget to review!**


	8. The Dreamer

**Disclaimer: I do not in ANY WAY own South Park.**

**Warning: This story contains character death and dark thoughts.**

**A/N: Yet another chapter down, yet another chapter of still not knowing where this story is going despite this one being the eighth. So, with that in mind, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!**

**Also, please review!**

**Legacy Scars (Chapter 8)-The Dreamer**

This has been one of the best fucking weeks in my young life! I feel I'm on top the world! I feel like I'm on a constant high and that every moment is like an orgasm coursing through my body! I've never felt so _free_ until what happened one week ago. But now that it has had time to sink in, I've only felt better and better every passing day and hour and minute and second! Talk about exponential growth!

I've dreamt about him dying before. In my dreams it was gruesome death, as God's revenge being so awful to all my friends and me. I've even occasionally dreamt of killing him myself before. Though, I have dreamt that quite a bit in the past week. I can just imagine him at my mercy, at the mercy of my own hands, suffering for every single thing that he did to all the people that I love. How dare we get away with all that?

But he hasn't. He's dead now and I am _happy_ now. I haven't even thought about my own past-suicidal thoughts because I have no reason to anymore. The only people in my life are the people who care about me: my parents, my brother Ike, and my friends Stan, Butters, Wendy, and Kenny.

Stan…he's reacting in the way I expected him to after having a week to think about it. At first, I thought he just might have been in shock. But, as the week passed, he has shown that he never saw Cartman as a friend either. He doesn't care that the asshole is gone. All is good with my best friend in the whole universe.

Butters has been burdened with so much, and he has yet another one now. Kenny has been ditching school since all this happened, and Butters has burdened himself with constant checking up on said mutual friend. His ditching (which can be officially excused because of these extenuating circumstances of a school-wide variety) is definitely alarm-raising, so he's not sparing any expenses to make sure everyone's alright.

The only reason I am not forcing Kenny to come back to school right now is because it can be officially excused. Because it, currently at least, doesn't have any major impact on culminating to senior year, I am allowing him to have his alone time to mourn before I step in. And when I step in, there is going to be hell to pay. He had his week so far, and has at most two more days before I slap his face and he realizes just what the hell he's doing. He's _insane_.

But that's some days away. I have some stuff to deal with right now. Namely, my parents. I didn't tell them my lie, yet they think I'm gay with Stan. Now that isn't a problem with me personally (after all, Butters is gay and is one of the most important people on my life); I'm not even bothered that they think I am, but it's a problem to my parents that they think I am.

I must admit to myself that I do have _some_ feelings for Stan beyond usual friendship. I do not in any way identify as gay or bisexual or anything except straight, really, but it is exceptionally well-known that sexuality is fluid. Just because I identify as straight does not mean that I cannot admit to having some romantic feelings to not only someone of the same sex, and I admit to myself that I do have some for Stan.

I don't know when exactly they started happening; all I know is that it was quite a bit before this whole what's-his-name-killing-himself thing. But I started actually acknowledging them that night actually; that lie I told was perhaps a bit of wishful thinking. Just being with him alone at the pond, just talking about stuff, was what I want. I don't care much for the _physical_ part of a relationship with Stan (if we ever had a relationship – after all, I am not gay), but the connection we have. That's what I want with Stan.

But my parents think that I am just plain gay, which is a big problem. My parents aren't all that accepting or tolerant and that relevant shit with gays or anyone different. I don't know why they aren't, and I don't particularly care to know. If I inquire them about it, it will only start heating up and stirring the pot of suspicion about me and I don't want to be the focus of their own inquisition.

So what the hell am I supposed to tell them? They won't believe that Stan and I were just talking; because people talk on the phone or text, not actually meet up anymore (which is absolute bullshit – Stan and I communicate as much as we can in person or verbally; we text only if it's the only option). I can't tell them that I am gay for a few reasons: one, I don't identify as such; two, they would try to get me some therapy or other type of help even though it's been proven that sexuality can't change; three, they would not let me see Stan anymore then because they would assume he is then and that he's influencing me even though it's been proven that sexuality is (pretty much) predetermined; four, it shouldn't even be their concern if I was or wasn't because this has nothing to do with them as it is _my_ life and not their life.

Well, whatever I will do, I can't think about it right now. I have Kenny to deal with in a few days and I have to deal with my parents when I wake up. But for right now, I have some more dreaming to do. Being with Stan, and us together seeing Cartman get what was coming to him before God already did to him...

**A/N: ****When I get in the mood for writing this story, I often write a bit in such a short amount of time but apparently leave it for a while until I get inspiration back. And when this flash of inspiration happens, I often add new details that might not work out in the end, which there are several examples of this in this chapter. Can't you tell? Regardless, I hope you guys enjoyed this one. Also, don't forget to review!**


	9. The Planner

**Disclaimer: I do not in ANY WAY own South Park.**

**Warning: This story contains character death and dark thoughts.**

**A/N: I have finished planning out this story! I figured out where I want this to go! So, with that in mind, I hope you all enjoy this chapter!**

**Also, please review!**

**Legacy Scars (Chapter 9)-The Planner**

It doesn't matter how tired I am, or what I have to do; I have to keep going. One slip up can be devastating. This is a delicate situation and I have been burdened with the task of dealing with it.

But I don't mind it; after all, I promised myself to help my friends no matter what. And if it means being exhausted and a bit overwhelmed for a few more days, then I'll do it with a smile on my face. They are that important to me.

But, boy am I tired. It's the middle of the semester, and that is when us students just start getting all the work and projects and the like thrown at us as if we have nothing better to do with our lives besides just sit in front of a computer and write essays that don't matter. Like, seriously, who cares about a character analysis of George from _Of Mice and Men_? That book has been thoroughly analyzed and written _to death_, so why should we have to do the same? I would rather just play some video games with Stan, Kyle, and Kenny. But no, I have to do all this useless work that won't even help in college.

In college, I think I'm going to do something in the humanities, maybe Anthropology or Archeology, either with a minor in Art History. Stan convinced me to take AP Art History after he took it last year, and I freaking love it. So, riddle me this my teachers, when would I ever use character analysis when I want to study African and Western art and the social foundations surrounding them? I would not, my teachers!

Wow, my mind is all over the place. But it's not my fault! I get weird when I'm tired and stressed! I've also been having to stay up late talking to Kenny. I'm worried about the guy. Especially after he came in to the bathroom while I was in there last week, I was the only he had opened up to as I later found out. Knowing that much, I was already burdened to have to watch out for him.

Not that I mind! I love my friends! But, it scares me because I don't want to screw it up. I have to keep reminding myself that one screw up can screw _him_ up. Who knows what Kenny will do to himself if I say the wrong thing or say something sarcastic that he doesn't catch or use a misleading emoticon? I'm afraid to think it, but I can see it all the time. I can just see him doing to himself what Eric had done to himself...

No, not _Eric_. He's _Cartman_.

And it's because of _him_, that horrible monster, that Kenny is the way he is right now. What did he do to make Kenny so attached? No mentally-healthy person would feel this way about an _asshole_ that not only abused him but all of his friends. What the _fuck_ did he do to Kenny?

Kenny…

Why won't you tell me anything? We've been talking for a week nonstop in these text messages. We talked about school, homework, and our families. We told each other jokes and stories about whatever. I told him what my own day was like, how our friends are doing, and I told him how my parents were getting to me again. But he's not telling me anything substantial.

Kenny, Kenny, Kenny! Say something! Why are you so upset? What are you feeling besides sadness? What have you been doing in your room this past week? Why don't you say you appreciate me for doing this and talking to you when nobody else will? Oh…

I'm so selfish. I want to believe that I have a right to be a bit selfish; after all, I would give anything for my friends and for them to be alright. But, what about me? I deserve a little bit. I deserve for them to give _something_ so I would be alright. But, I want _Kenny_ to say "thanks" or to tell me that it means a lot to him that I would do such a thing like this. Then I would like to give him a kiss!

Butters! Stop it right now, mister! Don't think like that! This isn't about you, and it never will be! You've been crushing on him for at least two years now, and you know it won't happen. Don't get yourself worked up again. Don't do this to yourself, Butters. Instead of trying to be selfish and delusional, you need to keep thinking about your friends. They are what matters. You're fine. Now it's time to worry about them.

But it's _hard_ to keep thinking like that. Every time I tell myself that, I just want to start crying. I hate myself so much. I hate what I've done because of _Cartman_, and I hate what I want to do with Kenny or other boys. Why can't I be _normal_? Why can't I just like a girl and be shallow like almost every guy in my year? But no; I have to just care about everyone I love and hold dear to me much more than myself. Maybe I should have done what Cartman would have wanted me to do. Maybe he wouldn't have killed himself if he had that extra money. Maybe-

No! Stop it! Stop it! Stop it! You deserve so much more than getting _used_ like that, Butters! Why can't you just believe yourself when you tell you? Your friends care about you, and they love you. Imagine how they would feel if they found out what he tried to do to you, let alone what they would feel if you had done it. Just remember what you're feeling right now. Right now, you're feeling loved. You _are_ loved.

Remember the love, Butters. And spread that love to all your friends. They need it, but so do you. Don't let this go. Maybe soon, after all this is over, and when Kenny and everyone else is alright, you can put yourself out there. Maybe you can get a nice boyfriend.

That's the plan. Let's try to put it into action.

**A/N: So, you can probably tell that this story is already almost done. I estimate only three or four chapters left. Are you guys liking it? If you are, I think you're going to like were this will go! Also, don't forget to review!**


	10. The Reflecting

**Disclaimer: I do not in ANY WAY own South Park.**

**Warning: This story contains character death and dark thoughts.**

**A/N: Here's another chapter for all of you! We are getting closer and closer until the end. I hope you all enjoy this one!**

**Also, please review!**

**Legacy Scars (Chapter 10)-The Reflecting**

"I'll try."

That was the last thing he told me before I got this huge pressure in my chest and I felt guilty. I still feel guilty.

When we were talking, he seemed like he was going to do exactly what the bastard had done. I had to make sure at that moment what Kenny was not going to kill himself. I knew he wasn't, at least not right then. I just felt his sadness, and I know he needed space. But, I shouldn't have given it to him. Sometimes, even though people want to be, they _cannot_ be left alone.

And now, he's been gone for a week. All I know is that Butters is talking to him via text message. To me, that is unacceptable. I've already given him a week to handle his shit, so now I'm taking action…

…By going to his male friends because I am not _that_ close to him. Yeah, he's my friend, but I don't have that connection with him like the guys do. Of the four of them, I'm close to him the least. I'm closest to Stan the most because he's by ex-boyfriend and still one of my best friends, Kyle second because of how much he hangs with Stan, Butters third because he's Butters, and Kenny last because we have almost nothing in common.

"Okay, boys, we need to talk about our friend Mr. Kenny McCormick." I say to Stan, Kyle, and Butters who are currently gathered in my junior-class-president office. It's after school right now, and I have the only other key to my office; the administration has the original.

"Looks like you beat me to it, Wendy. I was actually going to do this same thing in two more days. Looks like great minds really do think alike" Kyle says to me. That they do, Kyle. That they do.

"What are you both talking about?" Stan asks, and I can't be surprised. No matter how well he is doing academically in high school, he is still the same, dense boy I had once loved.

"You do the honors, Wendy. After all, you called this meeting." Kyle says to me, and I do not hesitate to follow in that command.

"Butters, what you're doing with the texts is amazing. But, I think we, especially Kyle, can all agree, that it is not nearly enough. We need to figure out what's wrong with him, and we need to figure out what's wrong with him _now_." I say, and I can see Kyle mouth something in agreement.

"How? It's not like he's been telling me anything. I haven't been pushing; I don't want him to take something the wrong way. But he hasn't been giving me _anything_ to work with." Butters speaks up, and this is what I was afraid of.

"See? That's what I mean. Butters is afraid if saying something wrong because he feels that Kenny will pull a shit-head-fat-ass move and do what he did. Right, Butters?" I see him nod. "I was afraid of the exact same thing when he came to me last week during my office hours. He just looked like he was giving up when I told him I couldn't do, and didn't want to, do what he wanted. Do you guys know what he wanted? Did he tell you, Butters?" I look over to Butters, who just shakes his head. The other boys look confused as well.

"Damn it! Okay, he wanted me to put on a memorial for the bastard. I told him I couldn't, but he saw through it. He downright asked me if I wanted to, and I said no. Then I told him it was because not only I hated him, but we all did. Then, he just kind of broke. I told him to take care of himself. That was the last time I saw him." I finish telling the boys what had happened last week, and I see some wheels turning in their heads.

"We're heading over there right now, damn it!" Stan says and gets out his phone. He holds a number down and immediately puts it on speaker-phone.

"Hello? Stan?" It's Kenny! I feel my heart racing; I don't know if this is good or bad.

"Dude, we're coming over. Don't try to stop us." Stan says, but not hanging up.

"Wait! Wait! Can you do me a favor first, then?" He sounds very desperate. What the hell is up with him?

"If it means we will see you, then yes. What is it?" Stan asks, and I have to admit that I am very curious.

"I need a bottle of air freshener. Febreze or something. And get here in an hour or two. I need to clean up, take a shower, you know." That's…a very odd request.

"Okay, Kenny. We trust you. We'll be there in two hours." Stan says, before we all hear a sigh of relief.

"Okay, thanks. Bye." And the line disconnects.

"Wendy, what do you make of that?" Stan asks me.

"Like hell if I know. I just know that I'll give you the money for the air freshener. It's the least I can do. I can just take it out of the junior-class budget. It's ten dollars at most; it won't be missed.

I've…done that a bit, actually. I take very small amounts out over some time. I need money! It is hard being a girl in high school without a job who needs makeup and clothes and other such things that a girl needs! I deserve it, I think!

"Are you sure? Can't you get in trouble?" Butters asks me, and I wave it off.

"I won't get caught. Trust me." I know I won't; the school does not keep as best records as it could. And I've calculated it out anyway when I read the rules of expense reporting; as long as I take no more than six percent of the current balance, it just needs to be reported as 'miscellaneous expenses.' So, my personal expenses are miscellaneous, in my book!

"You're so cunning. Why did we break up again? Just kidding, but you are awesome." Stan says, and I chuckle at that. I'm so glad we parted on the best of terms; I still love him, but like a best friend. I didn't tell him that I like chubby and bigger guys, because I am still embarrassed about it. But, he knows it wasn't his fault. And I'm good. He's good. _We're_ good.

"Thanks, Stan. And good luck to you, guys. Please keep me informed." I say as I hand them the ten dollar bill from the junior-class treasury safe, and I remember to write it down as 'miscellaneous' in the record book.

"Will do. Bye, Wendy." Kyle says, and they head off.

I'm hungry. I'll just take another five dollars and get myself something to eat…

**A/N: First, I want to apologize for an inconsistency in the previous Wendy chapter. I said there throughout that it was sophomore class, but I later changed it to junior class to fit with other ideas I had. And, yeah. What can I say? This seems like something Wendy would do. Did you all like this chapter? There are only two or three left! Also, don't forget to review!**


	11. The Transformed, Part 1

**Disclaimer: I do not in ANY WAY own South Park.**

**Warning: This story contains character death and dark thoughts.**

**A/N: I need to say that this chapter is really pushing, and maybe even passing the boundary, of the "T" rating. Reader Discretion is advised. I'm just letting you all know so you're prepared. And with that, I'll let you read. I hope you all like this chapter! **

**Also, please review!**

**Legacy Scars (Chapter 11)-The Transformed, Part 1**

This has been a difficult week. A very difficult week.

After talking to Wendy last week and going home to use that…_doll_ I tried to make like _him_ a few weeks ago, I realized just how fucking pathetic and disgusting and creepy and _fucking nauseating_ it was. But, I couldn't help myself. He died, and that doll was the closest thing I had left of him. I love him-

No, I don't love him. I _loved_ him.

And because of that awful emotion towards him, I did…_things_…with and to that doll. I hugged it, I kissed it, I…_made love_ with it. And after about the sixth or seventh time that weekend of doing _that_ with the doll, I realized something huge.

I don't need him. I just need his _image_. I know how pathetic and disgusting it is, but it's like an addiction. I'm addicted to making love with stuffed, marker-colored, miniature fabric doll of Eric Cartman. And it makes me want to…just keep doing it some more. Also-

Great. My phone's ringing. And it's Stan…

…And he's demanding to come over with the rest of the guys. Fuck me in the asshole!

I was able to buy time. And I'm getting the air freshener I need. My room needs it after the repeated _activities_ with the doll, which I stuff in a drawer.

Okay, two hours! I can do this!

* * *

Twenty minutes remain.

I had showered _very_ thoroughly, I straightened up my room, I changed my sheets, blanket, and pillow cases with my personal spares in my closet, and I did some redecorating to pass the time. The only thing I need is my air freshener.

I want to stop this, I really do. But, it's an addiction. And I just want to do it even though I don't. I haven't felt this clean in so long. And it's not just because of the shower itself, it's because I know I have a problem and admitting it is the first part of the battle.

_That fucking doll_…

Maybe I have enough time to do it again. I haven't fully gotten dressed yet, so I wouldn't make much of a mess…

No! No! No!

Your friends are fifteen minutes away now and you really want to soil that thing again? I need to get rid of it…

*KNOCK* *KNOCK* *KNOCK*

Thank God I have not begun. They're early.

They walk into my room after the air freshener has settled for a bit. They let me use it before they came in. I used _a lot_. Luckily they brought me the spray kind. And now, my room actually feels like a pleasant place to be (at least compared to the rest of the shithole I call a home).

"Kenny, we're worried about you. _I'm_ worried about you." Butters says immediately, and I already feel like crap. Butters…

"Kenny. We understand and can sympathize that you felt we was your friend. But, why? I know, I _know_ you're hurting, and I would hate to feel that pain. But, what did you see in him? He was an asshole to Butters, to _me_, and to you. Just…" Kyle says, and I sigh.

Should I tell them?

"I personally don't care that he's gone. I wouldn't say I'm _glad_, but I'm certainly not sad either. I would be fine if he just moved away, just so as long he can't hurt my friends anymore." Stan says, and I bend my neck. That…was odd to tell a _supposed_ mourning friend.

"Kenny, let me tell you what he did to me. Or _tried_ to do, anyhow. And, it isn't good, let me tell you." Butters says, before taking a huge breath. "He tried to…sell my body. There were these boys, right after I told I liked boys too, that paid him money to do _stuff_ with me. He said I would be helping them with their 'problem.' I couldn't believe he would try to do something like that to me. I ran to Kyle's place…I wanted to kill myself, Kenny. He made me want to kill myself." Butters tells his story…

…Cartman did that? The same Eric Cartman that I loved?

"Wha…?" I am so dumbfounded right now.

"Yeah. I've…never told anyone before. Kyle only knew he did something, but not what." Butters says, getting tears in his eyes. "I feel…free." He whispers, holding the tears in.

"Free. I feel the same Butters. I've felt so free since he did it. Stan is the only one who knows this, but I was heavily considering suicide a few years ago. All the torture he gave me, all the psychological and mental and emotional scars that I am forced to live with for the rest of my life is a testament to how much I am glad he's gone. He can never hurt me, or Butters, or Stan, or Wendy, or _you_ ever again. I am so _fucking_ happy he's gone you just don't know. Just like Butters, all of us are free now." Kyle tells his story as well, his voice stronger near the end. I see Stan pull him into a hug, which Kyle tightly returns.

"Kenny…" Butters says, and I nod really quickly. I need it to. Butters comes up to me and hugs me. Oh, my God.

I've feel in and out of love with a _monster_…whose image I still get off to.

"I've got you, Butters. I got you." I whisper in his ear. Butters was, in a way, almost raped. I can't even begin to imagine how that _monster_ could even begin to think about doing something like that to the sweet boy in my arms. This sweet, cute, caring boy.

This boy, the only one who's been checking on me for the past week. I'm not an idiot; I know they thought I was going to pull a Cartman and kill myself too. I know that Butters was talking to me not only to make sure I don't harm myself, but because he just _cares_ about _me_.

"Butters?" I ask softly, and he looks up at me.

"Hmm?" He looks up. I really hope this doesn't hurt him…

I lean down and softly kiss his cheek.

**A/N: Wow, this kind of sucked. And for a few reasons: One, too many italics; two, too many ellipses; three, sucky ending; four, too freaking weird. This is South Park, after all, but I think I might have gone a bit too far here. Well, regardless, there appears to be only one or two more chapters left. I hope you guys enjoyed this one. Also, don't forget to review!**


	12. The Transformed, Part 2

**Disclaimer: I do not in ANY WAY own South Park.**

**Warning: This story contains character death and dark thoughts.**

**A/N: I am somewhat shocked with the positive feedback last chapter got. I was expecting finger-wagging, but it did not come. And with that, here is the continuation! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!**

**Also, please review!**

"Butters?" I ask softly, and he looks up at me.

"Hmm?" He looks up. I really hope this doesn't hurt him…

I lean down and softly kiss his cheek.

**Legacy Scars (Chapter 12)-The Transformed, Part 2**

"Thank you so much, you guys. I'll see you guys at school tomorrow. Goodbye, everyone. Goodbye, Butters." I say as I close the door, taking a huge sigh. I walk back to my room kind of slowly, trying to process exactly everything that had occurred right after I had kissed Butters on his cheek.

When I kissed his cheek, he just kind of looked up at me, very confused. I was just as confused myself. I had no idea, and I still don't, why I did that. After he looked at me, we kind of just let the hug go and he went back to where Stan and Kyle were, who had both stopped hugging and were looking at me.

"I…don't know why I did that." I had said, and they all just kind of laughed it off, at least at first. A minute later, though, Butters said something that scared me.

"I like you too, Kenny." He had said, and I kind of froze. I just kind of nodded slowly, as if in realization. I saw Kyle and Stan just kind of shrug. They probably realized how awkward that was for me and were sparing me any more weirdness. So, to respond to Butters' comment, I just winked at him. He blushed a little and I have a feeling we're going to be having quite a talk on the phone later.

Then Stan and Kyle, being the ultimate savior of me from awkwardness, completely changed the subject. They told Butters and me something that we never would have expected…

…That they were there when Cartman killed himself!

I was definitely in shock. Butters, however, laughed so hard. He even fell of the chair he was on, clutching his chest in pain, face beet red, and coughing as much as he was laughing at that fact. His response to that also left me in shock, just like his response to my kiss.

"That bastard pulled one last trick." Butters had said, and I couldn't help but agree.

They told us exactly what happened. They had met up just to talk at Stark's Pond, away from the insanities that are their families, and that a car had just ran into the Pond, with all four windows down. They said he didn't struggle, he didn't try to get out. They said that there wasn't anything they or anyone else could (or would if given the chance) have done to prevent it. He was a dead man the moment the car started over the edge of the Pond…

…And I'm happy with that.

After hearing what everyone went through. Kyle…will, in all honesty, probably need therapy in the future (not to mention the issue he also told us with his parents thinking he's gay and how they aren't tolerant even though he isn't even gay). Butters…he very narrowly escaped certain physical and psychological trauma. Stan…has a huge burden, not unlike the one Butters had for me, to make sure Kyle, his best friend, is alright. While me…

…I have things to do. One of which I am about to do right now.

I walk over to the drawer where the doll, now a bit funky-smelling, lies. I should have done this a long time ago, way before _he_ even got in my head. I grab my scissors and walk over to the trash can in my room. I take a deep breath before cutting of the head.

I take all the stuffing out of the head and body, ripping it all apart. I take the fabric of the head and body and begin cutting at it. I cut it all up into such tiny pieces that it is not recognizable at all. Lastly, I throw it all in the trash can, put my scissors away, and use my new bottle of Febreze and spray the trash can to get the last remnants of my…_activities_…out of my head.

Second, I am getting rid of everything he gave me or anything that is distinctly linked to him. I am getting rid of old toys, pens or pencils he gave me, the leftover candy from our trick-or-treating last Halloween, and all the pictures I have of just him. All that leaves of him. Is just one photo.

Besides the school yearbooks, the only photo I have of him is one from when the six of us (me, Butters, Wendy, Stan, Kyle, and the asshole himself) were eight years old. I'm not getting rid of it only because all my friends are in that photo, and I will not forget the memories of them back then because of one fat bastard…

…I'm calling him a fat bastard. I can think of this without any qualms now. I went from _thinking_ I loved that guy to realizing what a monster he was. I have transformed. I don't love him or have a weird, freaky, pseudo-obsessive infatuation with him.

Instead, I have a real, nerve-wracking, meaningful, life-giving crush on Butters.

I still don't identify as gay or bisexual, but I do know that I do have a real crush on Butters. I'm not on the rebound. I am not leading him on. I guess it just took all this mess to realize what I was really feeling towards him. I just thought he was a really close friend, and he totally was, but he was also my guy. He's my guy.

*BRING*

And I have a text from him now.

_Hey._

I have the perfect response!

_I like you too, Butters._

**A/N: I want to start this A/N by responding to a question in that there will be an epilogue, and it is next! That means the next chapter is the last one. I know this chapter probably wasn't what you all expected. I apologize if you were all expecting a continuation of the conversation, not a looking back. Regardless, the plot details were there, and I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. I will see you guys for the epilogue. Also, don't forget to review! **


	13. Epilogue

**Disclaimer: I do not in ANY WAY own South Park.**

**Warning: This story contains character death and dark thoughts.**

**A/N: Well, here it is. This is the final chapter of this story. I hope you guys enjoy this epilogue. Be warned that it is also kind of…testing. And with that, I will see you guys in the final A/N at the end.**

**Also, please review!**

**Legacy Scars (Chapter 13)-Epilogue**

"Are you ready for this, guys?" Stan asks all of us. He knows we all are.

"You know it, Stan!" Wendy says. I'm actually surprised she wanted to come with us here. I certainly did not think she would be up for what we are about to do, especially this late. It's 3:24 AM, the sky is pitch black except for a few stars.

"Then let's go. Though it has only actually been a month, this has mentally been a long time coming." Kenny says, and it's just amazing the change he went through in the past month as well.

We all walk up to the plot in front of us. And it really is it. This is the gravestone of Eric Cartman…

_We miss you Eric. Let God cherish you in heaven. Rest In peace, Eric._

…That epitaph...

I really do feel bad for his family back in Nebraska. I never even thought about them. They didn't really know them; he only saw them once a year. To them, their nephew and cousin killed himself with no explanation.

For the most part, they were a nice bunch when we visited them. In a way, I'm glad they never got to know him because he never got a chance to hurt them too. I know they're mourning, but it's better for them that he died in the long run. And it's good that nobody outside of that family came to the funeral, though in South Park, because they will remain oblivious to what Cartman really was. It's better for them.

"All at the same time?" Butters asks.

"Damn right!" I say, getting in the mood now. I can't believe I'm going to be able to actually do this…

…We all dance. We dance and sing on his grave. And we all split on his name.

With everything he has done to the each of us, he deserves this and more in death. He doesn't deserve to rest in peace like the epitaph says; he deserves to be restless in chaos for all eternity.

"Fuck you, Cartman!" I shout and kick his grave. "Rot in Hell you asshole. You deserve so much worse. I'm glad you're dead. I'm glad you're dead!" I shout the phrase the second time. Then…

…Stan pulls me into a hug.

"Stan?" I ask, reaching for my cheek. It's…wet. I didn't even realize I started crying during that.

"Let it all out, dude." He says and I cry into his shoulder. The only thing is that these aren't tears of sadness; they're anything _but_. These are tears of happiness. I am just so happy that he really is dead, that I am seeing his grave, and that I can dance and spit on it as a final goodbye.

"Butters this is so awesome!" We all look over to Kenny who is…

…Pissing all over the grave!

Well, I'll be damned. Kenny never told any of us, Butters included, exactly what he was so upset. He never told us what he felt or anything like that, but he swore that after that intervention with Stan, Butters, and me one month ago that he had changed and I totally believe him, especially with what he's doing right now. Whatever was with Kenny is gone and I am thankful that my friend is back. While we all stare at Kenny's bravery, I can tell Butters is looking _down_ at Kenny…pretty shamelessly, actually.

I'm so happy for those two that they are together. They've been together for only a month, but they seem pretty perfect for each other. Kenny told us a few days after the intervention that he isn't gay or bi or anything like that, but he is Butters-sexual. That's perfectly fine. As long as he and Butters are happy is that matters. They deserve happiness.

"Come on everyone!" Kenny says, and I look at Stan, who just shrugs his shoulders.

"What the hell? Why not?" I shout. Stan, Butters, and I undo our belts, undo our zippers, and begin to pee right into the spot where Kenny is, which happens to be right in the middle of his name. Wendy goes over to the left side of the grave and squats. She isn't going to be left out just because she's a girl.

I can't believe this is really happening! Kenny is the first one to finish. Butters, Stan, and I finish a while after considering how much of a head start Kenny got. We quickly get back to normal before we realize how awkward that was.

"I've been waiting all day to do that." That explains why he's been drinking so much stuff today…

"I love you guys, you know that? I just want to tell you all that I wouldn't trade the entire world for you guys." Wendy says, and I open my arms. She understands the sign and lets me give her a hug. I even pick her up and twirl her.

"This was so much fun! We finally got to give that fucker the goodbye he deserves." Butters says, and I am a bit taken aback by the cursing. Butters curses, but not often; when he does, he means fucking _business_.

"Anything else we need to do guys? I don't want to ever come back here. It's time we all forget about this motherfucker and get on with our lives." Kenny asks, and we all agree that it's time to go.

We all walk back to Stan's house without much event. We already agreed that we would all spend the night there, even though space is tight. Especially because junior year ends in just another two months. It's time to start shifting gears into studying and schoolwork once again. Except…

…I have one last thing to do before we go to sleep.

It's time I deal with my feelings, too. When we get to his house, I hold him back for a second when everyone else goes upstairs.

"Hey, Stan…"

**THE END**

**A/N: Yes, the cliffhanger was intentional. No, there will not be a sequel, so you will have to come up with your own ending for Kyle's confession. I hope that this chapter also didn't take things too far. I don't know why, but this story made my mind go kind of crazy in trying to write it. But, this was a really fun story to write. I loved getting and reading all your reviews, and I hope you guys stick around to read my future work. Stay awesome, everyone! Thanks for sticking around! Also, don't forget to review!**


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